Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/764522.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Alan_Deaton, Sheriff_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Masturbation, Drabble, Aphrodisiacs, 100_word_chapters, Frottage, Drabble
      Sequence, Sex_Pollen, Sex_Compulsion, Dubious_Consent, Anal_Sex, come-as-
      lube, bareback, Outdoor_Sex, the_merest_hint_of_somnophilia, Monsters
      Make_Them_Do_It, First_Time, the_neverending_rimjob, Mild_Angst, and
      fluff, and_lots_and_lots_of_sex, the_neverending_blowjob, Blowjobs
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-04-17 Completed: 2013-06-04 Chapters: 50/50 Words: 5000
****** Monsters Made Them Do It ******
by vampireisthenewblack
Summary
     Fleeing a fight with a monster, Stiles and Derek realize that its
     blood has an unusual effect.
Notes
     An exercise in controlled procrastination. 100 words per day.
     [protip: drabble series' are easier to read if you hit the 'Entire
     Work' button at the top of the page]
See the end of the work for more notes
***** 1 *****
Stiles' hand itches, he's hard, and he's in Derek's car. "Stop."
"We didn't kill it," Derek says. "It might be after us."
"Gonna puke," Stiles lies, pressing his hand into his crotch to relieve the
pressure. "Don't watch."
"Open the window." Derek twitches his head to the right, sniffs. "What are you
doing?"
"Nothing." Stiles rubs harder.
"You're jerking off? In my car?"
"Can't help it. The blood did something."
Derek slams on the brakes, leans across, pops Stiles' door. "Out, I'll smell it
for weeks." His eyes meet Stiles', his arm brushes Stiles' thigh.
Stiles whines as he comes.
***** 2 *****
"I couldn't help it," Stiles insists.
Derek pushes him out of the car.
Standing on the roadside, come cooling in his jeans, Stiles realizes it's not
over. "I'm just..." He turns from Derek's scowl, walks stiffly into the trees,
unzips his fly. "No, I'm fine," he says. "Just infected." His hand falters.
"What if it kills me?"
There's a growl from the road, the sound of something large hitting the hood,
flesh tearing.
Derek might die, but Stiles needs to come. He clings to a tree, hand stripping
his cock, watching the dim glow of the headlights through the trees.
***** 3 *****
Derek appears, covered in blood. "There's an aphrodisiac in it, something..."
He shakes his head, runs his fingers through his hair. "We should go."
Stiles turns away. "Supernatural viagra. Awesome. Gimme a sec." His breath
hitches as he reaches for his dick again. He's got to come, though he's getting
little relief before it starts over.
Warmth presses against him from behind. Derek wraps an arm around Stiles'
chest, cock hard against his ass. "Sorry," Derek sighs, moving his hips. "I
have to..."
"Can't jerk off like a normal person?" Still, it helps. Stiles pushes back,
hand down his jeans.
***** 4 *****
"Is this gonna wear off?" Stiles wipes come off his hand onto the bark of a
tree.
Derek's arms tighten around Stiles. He grinds his dick against Stiles' ass,
letting out soft huffs of breath. "Go. Take the car."
Stiles is getting hard again. He covers Derek's hands with his own, holds on,
trying to resist touching his oversensitive dick so soon. "I'm not leaving you
here."
Derek grunts and stiffens. Wet warmth soaks into the back of Stiles' shirt.
"God. You came on me. That's so hot."
"Go," Derek growls, shoving Stiles away. "Or I'm going to fuck you."
***** 5 *****
Stiles gets halfway to the road. He has to stop, has to make himself come—Oh,
god, not again—before he can go any further.
"Stiles..." Derek's voice is an anguished growl.
Stiles should be afraid, instead he wills Derek to give in. "It's okay. I want
it." He falls to his hands and knees in the dirt.
Derek appears behind him. One hand is warm on Stiles' hip, the other drags
through the mess on his lower back. "I'll try to prepare you," Derek says,
dragging down Stiles' jeans, pushing a come-slick finger into the crack of
Stiles' ass.
***** 6 *****
Stiles' fingers claw into the ground, dirt grinding underneath his nails. It
distracts him from the burning stretch of Derek's fingers moving deep inside
him.
"God, I'm sorry," Derek moans, twisting his fingers out, thrusting back in.
"There's no time, I have to—"
"It helps," Stiles whispers. "Oh god, I want to come..." He wraps dirty fingers
around his cock, squeezes as he strokes.
"Wait, Stiles. You can wait, you're strong. I'm not." Derek pulls his hand
back, there's blunt pressure at Stiles' hole. "I'm sorry."
Stiles cries out as Derek pushes in. He feels like he's being split apart.
***** 7 *****
"Stiles," Derek moans, his voice wrecked. "I've gotta move."
Derek's cock is a deep, full-body ache inside him, but the pain has faded.
"Yeah," Stiles whispers. He reaches for his dick again. "But I've really got to
come now, I don't think you understand—"
Derek rocks his hips, fingers pressing bruises into Stiles' waist. "Oh, I
understand," he growls through clenched teeth.
Shallow thrusts aren't what Stiles expected, but it staves off his need a
little. "That's good," he sighs, stroking his cock slowly. "It's working."
Derek grunts his agreement, pulls out further, thrusts back in deep. "Come now,
Stiles."
***** 8 *****
Stiles needs to come, but it's harder now, like climbing Everest. "Four in a
row," he grunts, elbow jerking, free hand braced on the ground. He skids
forward with every one of Derek's thrusts. "Never done four. Argh, fuck. Spread
out over a day, sure."
"Just come," Derek growls. "When I'm done, try for the car again. I'll go the
other way."
Stiles shakes his head. "Just keep fucking me." This feels good, whatever the
blood does, this is what it needs. He could happily stay on hands and knees in
the dirt, Derek's cock filling him over and over.
***** 9 *****
Stiles' dick gives a feeble spurt, his body clenching hard.
"God," Derek moans, pushing deeper in tiny jerks. "I can feel it, Stiles.
Fuck." He grunts, cock pulsing as he comes.
Derek pulls out and Stiles moans at the sudden emptiness. "Keep fucking me,
please," he begs, but Derek's gone, a distant rustle of movement through the
trees.
Stiles limps toward the road.
The monster's on the hood, all horns and mucus and blood. It slides off when
Stiles pokes it with a stick.
In the car, he rubs his dick through his jeans. The keys aren't in the
ignition.
***** 10 *****
"Not good," Stiles moans as he tugs on his dick. "Very, very bad. Stupid,
stupid Derek Hale. Had to run off like a big scaredywolf, hope you're having
fun jerking off in the woods alone because I'm not, fucker, I'm dying here, I
can't come and when you fuck me it helps, okay, oh my god, Derek, please."
There's a distant howl. Seconds later, another, closer, then something big
crashes through the trees.
Stiles leans against the car, peers into the darkness. He jerks back when he
sees two red glowing eyes coming fast.
Derek hits the treeline and leaps.
***** 11 *****
The breath rushes out of Stiles when Derek hits him, pinning him to the car. He
tries to speak, nothing comes out, and he's harder than ever before, aching and
throbbing against Derek's bare stomach.
Derek's all teeth and sideburns, Stiles doesn't care, doesn't complain as he's
lifted roughly. He spreads his legs wide, sinks down onto Derek's cock with
only a sigh of relief.
Claws prickle Stiles' thighs, fangs scrape his shoulder. He slips his hand
between them, wraps it loosely around his dick. "Yeah," he rasps, going limp,
letting Derek do the work. "Keep fucking me. Never stop."
***** 12 *****
Derek's face shifts back to human when he comes, and when he pulls out he holds
Stiles close, cradling his head with one hand.
Stiles tries to protest, so empty he can't bear it, but Derek makes soothing
sounds and lowers him to the ground. "I'm not going," he says, covering Stiles
with his body, sliding back inside.
Stiles whimpers in relief. He closes his eyes, exhausted, wrung out and
wrecked, but Derek keeps him full, even when he comes, he keeps moving until
he's hard again.
"Never stop," Stiles murmurs, on the edge of sleep.
"I promise," Derek whispers.
***** 13 *****
Stiles half-wakes to a car passing on the road, a hard-on, and Derek wrapped
around him from behind. He presses back against Derek's cock, sticky along the
crack of his ass, and strokes himself.
"Stiles," Derek says, voice sleep-thick and husky, rocking his hips.
"Fuck me," Stiles breathes.
Derek hums, splays his hand over Stiles' chest, pushes inside. They move
together slowly.
Stiles comes crying out, Derek jerking inside him all over again before he
softens and slips out.
"I'm not getting hard again," Stiles says. "It's worn off."
Derek stiffens. "So just now—"
"Not monster induced, no. Just us."
***** 14 *****
Derek dumps the tarp-wrapped monster onto Deaton's exam table. "Don't get the
blood on you."
Stiles is painfully aware of his clothes, torn and covered in blood and other
fluids.
"What happened to you boys?" Deaton asks.
"We slept together," Derek says.
Stiles snorts. "Yeah, but before that, we had sex. A whole lot of really dirty,
filthy, depraved, compulsive sex. Then we slept together, then we—"
"Stiles," Derek growls, then looks at Deaton. "We were both infected."
"I understand," Deaton says, resting his hand on Derek's shoulder. "Were you
boys involved, before this happened?"
"No," Derek says. "Definitely not."
***** 15 *****
Stiles waits out front, listens to the soft hum of Deaton's voice, the
noncommittal growl of Derek's. Stiles can't hear words, but he knows they're
talking about him.
He calls his dad at the station. It's easier to lie about why he stayed out,
now that his dad knows about werewolves. He worries more though. "I'm fine,"
Stiles says. "Going home to sleep."
Derek appears, and Stiles ends the call. "Give me a lift?" Stiles tries to
stand normally, tries not to wince as he shifts his weight.
"Of course." Derek's hand is warm at Stiles' back, but never touches.
***** 16 *****
Stiles expects to be left at his door, but Derek kills the engine, follows him
into the house, silent and with an expression on his face that is different
from the usual scowl, more pinched, more painful.
"I'm fine," Stiles says when Derek follows him up the stairs. "I don't need a
babysitter."
Derek stops, closes his eyes, sighs. "You're scratched and bruised. I did that.
I need to make sure you're going to be okay."
Stiles keeps going, every step painful. The little sleep he had wasn't enough
and his legs are barely holding him. "Okay," he says. "Thanks."
***** 17 *****
The shower sends plumes of steam into the air. Stiles peels his shirt away from
the scabs on his back, shoulders, hips, tosses it at the hamper, then unbuttons
his jeans.
"D'you want me to wait outside?"
Stiles looks up and shrugs. "You've seen it."
The hot water soothes Stiles' sore muscles, but drains him of energy. He's
relieved when Derek climbs in, holds him up with strong arms as he slides a
soapy washcloth over broken, bruised skin.
There are deep scratches on his back Stiles doesn't remember getting. They
sting when Derek cleans them. "I'm sorry," he whispers.
***** 18 *****
The blind is closed to block out the sun, Stiles is wrapped in blankets, near
sleep. "You can leave now," he murmurs. "I'm just gonna—"
"I wanna stay," Derek says.
Stiles forces his eyes open. Derek sits with elbows on his knees, fingers
locked together under his chin. His hair is still wet from the shower, his
eyelids look as heavy as Stiles' feel.
"Get in here, then," Stiles says. "Might as well sleep."
Derek blinks. "You should want me as far away from you as possible."
Stiles snorts. "You won't go away."
"Do you want me to go?"
"No."
***** 19 *****
"This isn't something you did to me," Stiles whispers, curling his hand,
grazing his knuckles over Derek's chest. "It happened to both of us."
Derek exhales a shaky breath over the top of Stiles' head. He moves, pressing
the flat of his hand to the small of Stiles' back.
The aches and stings drain away, Stiles relaxes muscles he hadn't realised were
tense. "Oh, god," he whispers, unclenching his fist, spreading his fingers out
over Derek's skin. "I'm glad it was you."
"No," Derek says.
"Yeah." Stiles' words are slurred, he's almost asleep. "I wanted you to fuck me
before."
***** 20 *****
"No," Derek says. "That's not true."
"It is." Stiles presses his lips to Derek's shoulder.
"That makes it worse," Derek says, voice broken and twisted. "I should have
been stronger, I should have stayed away."
"You're an idiot." Sleep tries to drag Stiles under. "I needed you, and you
didn't go, and you're still here now, and please, please don't be gone when I
wake up."
Stiles lets sleep take him, but not before he feels Derek's grip on him
tighten, feels hot breath against his cheek where Derek pushes his face into
the place Stiles' head meets the pillow.
***** 21 *****
Stiles wakes up warm and half-hard, Derek still wrapped around him. He shifts,
rubbing his sensitive cock against Derek's thigh.
Derek moans, his grip on Stiles tightens briefly, then his body stiffens as he
becomes aware. "Stiles," he whispers, pulling away.
Stiles opens his eyes. "Please just fucking kiss me."
Derek's face screws up, like he's in pain. "Last night wasn't real."
Stiles sighs and rolls onto his back. "You fucked me this morning. Not because
we were still infected, not because you were doing me a favor. You did it
because you wanted to."
"That doesn't make it okay."
***** 22 *****
"Derek, fuck." Stiles pulls himself up to a sitting position. "It wasn't your
fault, you couldn't have guessed what that blood was going to do. Stop
torturing yourself. I want you to kiss me. If you want that, too, do it. If you
don't, then maybe you should leave, because all this concern is making me think
you care." He pulls his knees up, drops his head down.
Derek rests his hand on the back of Stiles' neck. "I've gotta deal with what I
did, the way it happened. If we'd had any choice, it wouldn't have been like
that."
***** 23 *****
"I've got nothing to compare with," Stiles mumbles. "Was it really that bad?"
Derek makes a sound of disbelief. "It was awful. Rough, hurried, out in the
woods, down in the dirt..."
Stiles lifts his head. "It felt good," he whispers. "To me, anyway."
Derek's fingers are warm on the back of his neck. "It should have been so much
better."
"So, show me."
Derek's lips twitch, but he shakes his head. "Stiles..."
"Come on, I'm giving you a do-over."
Derek actually cracks a smile this time, then, fingers tightening on the back
of Stiles' neck, he pulls him close.
***** 24 *****
Though he's been asking for it, the kiss is a surprise. The tight grip on the
back of his neck, the warm press of dry lips, there one moment, and then gone.
"That doesn't count," Stiles whines, twisting, gripping Derek's shoulders and
straddling his lap.
Derek doesn't push him away. He loops his arm tight around Stiles' waist,
pulling him even closer. "I should go," he says, but his fingers press into
Stiles' neck, baring it, and he lowers his head and inhales.
"You're sniffing me," Stiles moans.
"You smell good." Then he kisses Stiles, hot, wet, stealing his breath.
***** 25 *****
"Do-over," Stiles breathes as Derek sucks a fresh bruise into his neck. "Do me.
Do me all over again. Please." He rolls his hips, pushing his cock against
Derek's through thin pyjama pants and the rough denim of Derek's jeans.
"Fuck, Stiles," Derek gasps, jerking his head back, his hips up. "There's no
way... You should be—"
"All fucked out? Dude, I'm seventeen."
Derek kisses him hard. "Sore. I didn't take enough time—"
Stiles rises on his knees, cock still pressed hard against Derek's crotch. He
shudders, moans—his dick feels like it's been rubbed raw. "We've got time now."
***** 26 *****
The next thing Stiles knows, he's on his belly, staring at the foot of the bed.
"I wanna bite you, right here," Derek says, breathing on the back of Stiles'
neck. "Hold you still while I fuck you."
Stiles stiffens. "Wouldn't that turn—"
"I won't. I can fight my instincts." Derek moves down the bed, hooking his
fingers into the elastic waist of Stiles' pants, dragging them down. Warm
breath washes over his ass.
"Holy shit," Stiles breathes. "What are you doing?"
Derek spreads Stiles' ass with his thumbs and drags the flat of his tongue over
the sensitive hole.
***** 27 *****
Derek's right, Stiles is sore. Not surprising, he went from a virgin who'd
never had more than his own finger inside himself to being stretched open on
Derek's cock and fucked in the space of five minutes last night.
The slow drag and press of Derek's tongue soothes that lingering ache and
drains away tension Stiles wasn't aware he was holding on to. His legs are
spread, the waist of his pyjama pants an uncomfortable tight band around his
thighs.
Derek drags them down, but the loss of Derek's tongue makes Stiles whimper and
wriggle back, seeking that contact again.
***** 28 *****
Chapter Notes
     It's the neverending rimjob...
"You like that?" Derek whispers as he settles back between Stiles' thighs. "It
feels good?"
Stiles moans and pushes back as Derek's tongue circles his hole again. "Holy
crap, yes," he says. He should be embarrassed at how wide his legs are spread,
how his hips rock back into Derek's face, forward against the bed, but he
doesn't care. There's more sensation than he's felt before in his whole body.
The rasp of stubble on his ass cheeks, the thumbs holding him open, the rough
blankets on his cock and the hot wet pressure on his hole drive him crazy.
***** 29 *****
When Derek points his tongue, wriggles it slowly inside, Stiles lets out a
broken sob and tries to get a hand under him. It's a different kind of
desperation from last night, but no less urgent and he whimpers when Derek
stops him, takes his hand and links their fingers.
"Not fair," Stiles whimpers, thrusting against the blanket. "I need to come."
Derek fucks his tongue into Stiles, a slow, slippery slide in, out, then a
finger pushes into Stiles as Derek lifts his head. "No you don't. Not this
time." He spits on his finger, pushes it in deeper.
***** 30 *****
"You've got lube, right?" Derek whispers against the cheek of Stiles' ass.
Stiles whimpers an affirmative, nodding into the blankets. His fingers twist
into the covers, hands clenching with each maddening shift of Derek's finger
inside him. "Shelf," he says. "Behind the tissues."
Derek chuckles, then he's gone, but he's back moments later, thumbs again
spreading Stiles' ass open, tongue sliding over the sensitive flesh in the
center. He pulls back, the sharp crack of a plastic cap rings out, and slick
fingers press against Stiles.
The first slides in easy and deep, then Derek eases two in at once.
***** 31 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles moans as Derek's fingers twist inside him. They're slick, really slick,
and Derek's been doing this for so long that Stiles gave up trying to hold onto
his sanity long ago.
Derek touches a place inside and Stiles loses what fragile control he still had
as he shudders, cries out wordlessly, and hopes to either come or die because
he can't, not again, he's lost count of how many times Derek's brought him to
the brink and taken it away.
And all the time Derek's lips move over the small of his back, whispering
soothing words Stiles can't understand.
Chapter End Notes
     It's officially one month today. My commitment astounds me, really.
     You all are awesome. Thank you!
***** 32 *****
Before Stiles can come, Derek's fingers slip out and Stiles is left with a
deep, empty ache inside him. "No," he whimpers, when Derek gets off the bed.
"Getting my jeans off," Derek says. His voice is deep and hoarse, like he's the
one who's been brought to the brink over and over again.
Fabric hits the floor, then Derek surrounds Stiles, his breath at Stiles' ear,
his hands on Stiles' waist, his cock pressed against Stiles' ass. "Can I fuck
you?" he asks.
Stiles blinks.
"Please, Stiles," Derek says, sounding desperate.
"Uh. Yes. Please just get in me already."
***** 33 *****
Derek's cock goes in easy, no pain, just a pleasurable ache deep inside.
"Stiles," Derek moans, fingertips pressing fresh bruises into Stiles' hips.
"Fuck, Stiles."
Stiles twists his hips as much as he can, urging Derek to move, to fuck him
instead of just this heavy weight pressing him into the bed. The blankets rub
against his dick and it's delicious, maddening, too much and not enough and he
jerks and clenches up, squeezing the cock inside him.
Derek lets out a deep groan that vibrates into Stiles. "Up," he says, pulling
Stiles back so he's on hands and knees.
***** 34 *****
Derek barely moves. His chest is plastered to Stiles' back, his arms wrapped
around Stiles' body, hands splayed wide, like he can't bear to leave.
Stiles whines and rocks on his knees as he tries to force Derek into some kind
of rhythm. "Please, just... Fuck, Derek. Move. You gotta move."
Forehead pressed to the back of Stiles' neck, Derek groans. "I don't want it to
be over."
"You're crazy." Stiles rocks forward, pushes back. "It won't be over. We're
totally doing this again. A lot."
Derek sucks in a harsh breath and pushes back. "Fuck, Stiles. I want it."
***** 35 *****
"You've got it," Stiles says.
Derek pulls back with a groan, slow and steady, hands sliding down to grip
Stiles by the waist. He slides back in, just as carefully. "You feel fucking
good, Stiles. Too fucking good." A few quick, shallow thrusts, then Derek pulls
out all the way, flips Stiles onto his back, pushes back inside before he can
complain.
Stiles wraps his legs around Derek's hips, pulls him down into a clumsy kiss.
"That monster deserves a medal," he gasps against Derek's lips.
Derek drops his head onto Stiles' shoulder, rocks into him with slow, rolling
thrusts.
***** 36 *****
Stiles gets a hand between them, Derek doesn't stop him, and he's on the edge
of orgasm when Derek lifts them both, rocking back onto his knees.
Derek's cock goes deeper, grazing Stiles' prostate at the same moment as Stiles
drags his finger across the underside of his head. His orgasm hits hard,
exploding in the base of his spine.
Stiles hears Derek's sharp intake of breath, feels him stiffen and swell before
he goes still, claws in the back of Stiles' neck.
Then there's quiet, broken only by their breathing and the creak of the
mattress beneath Derek's knees.
***** 37 *****
Stiles is warm and sleepy, wrapped around Derek, wrapped in him.
"I should go," Derek says.
Stiles makes a noise of complaint and holds on tighter.
Derek sighs. "Go to sleep, Stiles."
"When I wake up you'll be gone."
"You want your father to find me here?"
"Minus the inevitable shooting, yes." Stiles pulls himself up on one elbow.
"This is a thing, right? You and me? You said you wanted it."
"I do." Derek closes his eyes. "I just don't know if it's real yet."
Stiles groans and sinks back into the pillow.
"Go to sleep, Stiles," Derek says.
***** 38 *****
When Stiles wakes, he's alone and there are aches in muscles he didn't know he
had. It's almost dark outside his window, and Stiles remembers he hasn't eaten
since yesterday.
His father is in the kitchen when he goes down, wearing worried eyes and the
faint scent of whiskey. "Derek was here when I got in," he says. "He told me
what happened."
Stiles chokes on the sandwich his father put in front of him. "He what?"
"How you both got hit with some kind of monster whammy and went a little crazy.
Said you got banged up pretty good."
***** 39 *****
Stiles blinks. "Crazy. Yes. That's what happened." He twirls his finger in the
air beside his ear. "Looney tunes. Naked and drooling like a couple of feral
wolf children. Uh huh."
The Sheriff looks alarmed. "You got naked with Derek Hale?"
"No! More like half naked. Yeah. I'm gonna stop talking now."
Stiles' dad relaxes, still looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Was it him that
roughed you up?"
Stiles shakes his head. "It's just a few scratches and bruises. He didn't try
to eat me."
John sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face. "You're probably lucky he likes
you."
***** 40 *****
Three days later, Derek answers his phone.
"You dick," Stiles says.
"What's that for?"
Stiles considers bashing the phone against the dashboard of the Jeep, but it's
not the phone's fault Derek is an asshole. "Take your pick, asshole."
"Come on, Stiles. Is it about before?"
"No." Stiles rolls his eyes. "It's about not answering your phone. Dick move,
dude. When you say you're gonna call, call."
"I didn't say I'd call."
"It was assumed. We had sex. You're supposed to call. Failing that, answer your
phone." Stiles starts the Jeep. "I'm coming to your place. You'd better be
there."
***** 41 *****
Derek's standing on the porch looking worried when Stiles arrives.
Stiles leans against the Jeep, arms crossed over his chest.
"I had to make sure it was real," Derek says as he walks down the steps. "That
it didn't have lingering effects, that it wasn't making me think I wanted
something that didn't exist."
Stiles pulls his arms tighter around himself and refuses to meet Derek's eyes.
"I knew if I talked to you I'd give in. You can be very convincing."
"It was always real for me," Stiles whispers, blinking rapidly. He's not going
to get emotional. He's not.
***** 42 *****
Derek comes close enough that Stiles can feel the heat of his body. "Look at
me," he says, fingers on the back of Stiles' neck, making the healing scratches
there itch.
Stiles lets Derek turn his head, but he keeps his eyes turned away.
Derek sighs. "There was so much sex," he says. "I couldn't be sure there was
anything else there."
Stiles looks, then. "You looked after me. I knew. You're an idiot if you can't
see it."
"I can now." Derek cradles the back of Stiles' head as he kisses him, warm lips
moving softly over Stiles' mouth.
***** 43 *****
Stiles trips up the steps behind Derek, fingers reaching out for the back of
Derek's jeans, falling short because Derek is ever out of reach. "This is
awesome," he says, words spilling out fast in his haste. "I spent three days
sure that was it, all depressed over the things I never got to do to you."
Derek stops inside the doorway, Stiles crashing into the back of him. "What
things?" Derek says as he turns, pulling Stiles into the house and kicking the
door shut.
"Um," Stiles says, then he slides down to his knees.
"Stiles, fuck," Derek says.
***** 44 *****
Stiles' hands shake as he drags down the zipper of Derek's jeans. He's waiting
for Derek to stop him, but it doesn't happen. "What, no 'too much sex, lets
share our feelings'?" Stiles asks.
Derek looks at him as if he's lost his mind. "Stiles, I swear if you don't get
on with it I'll—"
"Rip off my head with your teeth?" Stiles hooks his fingers into the elastic
waist of Derek's underwear, tugs them down just far enough to expose the tip of
his cock and a bead of precome. "Whoa," he whispers, and then he licks it away.
***** 45 *****
"You taste—"
"I swear, Stiles—"
"Rip off my head, right." Stiles shoves Derek's jeans and underwear down, wraps
his lips around the head of Derek's cock, swirls his tongue. He's never done
this before, but he's watched lots of porn and figures that counts for
something.
Derek puts his hand on the back of Stiles' head, pulling Stiles' mouth onto his
cock with gentle pressure. "No," he groans, "I'll throw you down and fuck you."
Stiles pulls off and grins. "I brought lube."
"Oh my god, Stiles," Derek growls, pulling Stiles' mouth back onto his dick.
Claws prick Stiles' scalp.
***** 46 *****
Derek thrusts into Stiles' mouth, slow, gentle even, but with a firm grip on
the back of Stiles' head that he knows he couldn't break if he tried. Derek's
other hand cups Stiles' cheek, the thumb tracing the corner of his mouth where
it's stretched around Derek's cock.
"If I'd known it would be this easy to shut you up," Derek says, his eyes dark
and intense, "I would've done it a long time ago." His lips curl into a soft
smile. "We really should've done this a long time ago."
Stiles moans, pulling at the button of his jeans.
***** 47 *****
Stiles whimpers when he finally gets a hand around his dick. His eyelids close
as he drags his palm over the head and down the shaft.
"Open them," Derek says, his voice rough. "Wanna see you come. Look at me." His
thrusts into Stiles' mouth get jerky and fast, fingers clenching at the base of
Stiles' skull. "You're already close, I can fucking smell it."
Stiles opens his eyes and whines, tries to nod because he's so fucking close
it's ridiculous and the look on Derek's face, eyes almost black, mouth hanging
open as he gasps for air, isn't helping.
***** 48 *****
In the end, Derek comes first, with a look on his face that is like pain, and a
whimpered, "Stiles, fuck."
Bitterness and salt fills Stiles' mouth, spreads over his tongue before he
swallows.
"Fucking beautiful," Derek says, wiping come from the corner of Stiles' lips
with his thumb as he pulls back. "So good."
Stiles leans his cheek against Derek's hip, closes his eyes, focuses on the
warmth of Derek's fingers holding his head and the taste thick in his mouth as
he starts to come. He's more lost now than he ever was that night in the woods.
***** 49 *****
Derek kisses him afterward, kneeling on the floor with him, dipping his tongue
into Stiles' mouth like he's trying to taste his own come. "So good," he says
between kisses, or, "oh, my god," or he moans Stiles' name before licking into
his mouth again.
Stiles feels dopey and tired. "We're totally a thing," he grins into Derek's
shoulder when Derek finally stops kissing him, and, "do you realise you're
kneeling in my come?"
Derek stands up, drops his jeans to the floor, steps out of them. "Come on," he
says, grabbing Stiles' hand and pulling him to his feet.
***** 50 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles follows Derek up the stairs.
Derek's fixing the house, bits at a time, when things aren't too monstery. He
has a bedroom now, it needs some paint and paper, but it has four walls, a
floor, a ceiling. There's even a bed, big enough for two, and Derek drags
Stiles toward it, starts peeling off Stiles' clothing, slow and methodical.
"Lube's in my jeans pocket," Stiles says as Derek tosses them across the room.
"We're sleeping," Derek replies, pulling back the covers, pushing Stiles over
to the other side.
"Will you be here when I wake up?"
"I promise."
Chapter End Notes
     Stick a fork in me, I'm done!
     This has been the EPIC drabble project. It started as 100 words,
     became 1400, then kept growing, finally becoming a complete 5k Porn-
     Without-Much-Plot spanning 50 days. I've written drabble series'
     before, but nothing like this.
     I promised another daily post project, but the one I had planned
     sucked, so I shelved that idea and I'm very sorry! I do like the
     regular posting and the way it makes me write every day, but my other
     projects are suffering. I've got something indulgent I really want to
     write, so the daily thing is going on the backburner for now. I am
     thinking about a weekly ficlet project, and I have the first one
     waiting to be edited now. It should post in the next week or so.
     Do the author subscribe thing if you want a notification, it's the
     quickest way to hear when I post, cos I tend to forget about tweeting
     or tumblring till after the fact.
     Finally, thank you so much for all your kudos and comments and for
     reading along. It's been awesome :D
End Notes
           If you enjoyed reading, please hit the [Kudos ♥] button.
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